


Fangs and Fur

by Hathanta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Wolfstar - Fandom
Genre: AU, Gen, M/M, Werewolf, vampire, vampire/werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathanta/pseuds/Hathanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius, as a vampire, is looking for a place to stay for the day and comes across a seemingly uninhabited cabin in the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cabin for the Night

A lone figure picked his way through the grey darkness of the forest, quietly flickering from shadow to shadow. A cloak was clasped around his shoulders, but he strode with the hood down, revealing a pale, bloodless face framed with black hair. The man walked with the confidence of the truly reckless, but his eyes roamed about him, as though looking for something. Finally his gaze wandered ahead of him into a clearing and his eyes locked onto the looming shape of a house.  
Sirius could see the cabin through the trees. It looked sturdy, with some walls of stone and a thatch roof. Ivy had only just begun to crawl up the side, and nothing seemed in disrepair, but the door was hanging open, creaking slightly in the breeze. Well, the vampire needed a place to stay for the day, and this looked as good as any – and uninhabited to boot. He padded up to the door and pushed on the rough wood, but stilled as the flash of a smell reached his nose. Earthy and familiar, iron tinged and the sustenance of his existence. Blood, of course. He glanced down, a mere tip of his head, and saw trail of the stuff leading up over the threshold and into the room. Crouching swiftly and sweeping his cloak away from it, he touched the blood with his fingers. Fresh and wet, but already cooling and thickening. He scooped a little up and sucked it off his fingertips. Not human. Venison if he wasn’t mistaken. Well – _deer_.  
Sirius rose and gently pushed the door open, staying on the step outside. As moonlight filtered into the room something growled from within. It was a trembling sound as deep as a chasm and it echoed around him. He looked, seeing quite clearly through the darkness, and saw a huge wolf standing over the carcass of a deer, muzzle stained in blood, yellow eyes glinting. He quickly glanced at the sky, trying to locate the moon and, sure enough, it glowed back down at him round and full. So, a werewolf. He was sure he could deal with that... as long as the wolf was feeling friendly.  
Stepping through the door he began to edge around the room while the wolf growled at him. There was a table set to one side, a fireplace with a stool next to it and some cupboards lining the walls. Another door appeared to lead into a second room and he carefully backed through this, away from the wolf whose rumbling lessened as he moved away from the meat. Deciding it was safe, Sirius shut the door and locked it. Turning around with his back to the wood he saw that he was in a bedroom that, oddly enough, held double bed. It was rare enough to find _feather mattresses_ in the wilderness, let alone ones large enough for two. He had a moment of worry while he wondered whether there might be two werewolves, but shrugged it off as he noted that only one side of the bed really looked inhabited. There was also a shuttered window on the wall next to him, which he checked for cracks that could let in fatal daylight. Finding it quite secure, he undid the silver clasps at his throat threw his heavy cloak over a chair, shucked off his forest-stained boots and fell onto the bed. He sunk into the softness, really appreciating it after sleeping rough for so long. It reminded him unfortunately of his childhood bed, but he shoved that memory aside and snuggled into the pillows. He might’ve been dead but he could still enjoy things in un-life. There was a slight, but distinctly canine smell about the bed, overlaid with foresty scents and a kind of autumnal freshness. Surprisingly he found it didn’t bother him. He closed his eyes, and relaxed into a dreamless sleep. 

And was woken by a rather rude and insistent knocking.  
“Go away!” he called without opening his eyes, “It’s the middle of the day!”  
The thudding stopped and there was a moment of silence. Then a clear and politely angry voice said “Excuse me?”  
Sirius’ eyes snapped open as he remembered: cabin, blood, werewolf, soft feather bed. The room was lovely and dark. The shutters were very good – in fact he was very tempted to stay here for the rest of the day.  
But he was also curious.  
“Are you the werewolf?” he called out to the door.  
Another moment of silence and then in a now rather shaky voice, “Who are you?”  
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Could we not, perchance, hold this conversation in the evening?”  
“What? I – ...no. No – I need some clothes. And this is my house! Who d’you think you are?”  
“Sirius Orion Black III.” He hated using his title to get his way – but when you were dealing with peasants these things were necessary. The silence from the other side of the door indicated it had worked so he lazily closed his eyes once more.  
But then, “You know, I don’t care if you’re the Queen of Sheba, this is my house and you are trespassing – I could bring the justice down on you!”  
Sirius had to laugh at that.  
“Ok,” he called amused by the outrage and courage of the werewolf, “Ok, I’ll let you in on one condition – you mustn’t let any sunlight into the room. A little while you are opening and closing the door is fine – and candle light is fine. But no sunlight.”  
“What?”  
“Swear it.”  
“Ok – yes.”  
 _“Swear it.”_  
A pause. Then, “I swear that I will bring only candlelight into the room and let no sunlight in. If I break this oath then my life is forfeit.”  
“Very good,” Sirius slipped out of the bed and padded over to the door, bare feet almost soundless on the floor, “I am going to unlock this and then step away from the door, so wait until I tell you that I’m safe.” He gently turned the key, and then hurried into the darkest corner of the room. “Ok, you may enter.”  
The door opened a crack and a tall, skinny man holding a candle edged into the room and closed it quickly behind him. He glanced around skittishly, taking in the cloak, boots and rumpled bed, before his eyes alighted on Sirius, standing quietly in the corner. His eyebrows shot up.  
The candle light illuminated him in a soft glow, but Sirius could see him well enough without it. He wore a ragged shirt and patched trousers, both mottled with brown bloodstains. His face too still held some remnants of last night’s feed, but he seemed to have attempted to wash most of it off. He wasn’t particularly handsome, Sirius would have said his nose was too big, and his face was marred by three thin scars, running diagonally from eye to cheek, but he had a look to him – a warmness that matched his scent on the sheets – something natural and honest.  
“I suppose you’re a vampire.” He said quietly, after a moment of perusal.  
“Very good. I just need somewhere to stay the day – you see?” it was quite reasonable really, and the man nodded slowly.  
“You could’ve asked.”  
“I would have, of course, but you were – ah – _indisposed_ last night.”  
The wolf dropped his gaze, and then glanced back up at Sirius, “It’s not the middle of the day, you know. It’s only just midmorning.”  
Sirius chuckled and an answering smile spread across the werewolf’s face.  
“I’m Remus,” he said.  
“Sirius – though, I already told you.”  
“Yes.” Remus finally tore his gaze from the vampire and moved into the room to a clothes chest. Sirius watched unabashedly as he quickly changed, noting the scars that crisscrossed his back and legs, and the way the lean muscle caught the candlelight. As Remus stood he noticed Sirius watching him and a blush – _an actual blush_ – splashed across his cheeks. He must be a virgin, Sirius decided, smirking.  
“Does anyone share your bed?”  
“No,” he answered carefully, “I live alone.”  
“So you have never known another?” Remus peered at him in worried confusion and he elaborated, enjoying how uncomfortable the man was getting, “You are a virgin?”  
He looked gobsmacked and his blush deepened, “I – no.” His mouth worked as he desperately searched for a different topic and finally asked, “Are you just going to stand there all day?”  
“No, actually I was going to go back to sleep after you left.”  
“I’m not going to let you lock me out again,” he asserted quickly.  
“I think I trust you not to kill me.”  
Remus nodded and looked at the tangled sheets, “Could you sleep on the other side of the bed? It’s the unoccupied side.”  
Sirius glanced at the bed disdainfully, “No, I’m quite comfy.”  
Remus pursed his lips and then picked up his candle, “Well. Good night – er, day then, um... Sleep well.” He left the room hurriedly.  
Sirius grinned to himself and stretched out on the bed again. Remus wasn’t so bad. A cursed creature like himself – and with a sense of humour. And he blushed so easily. That could be fun. So maybe he’d stick around for a bit.  
Yes, maybe he’d stay here.


	2. Bad Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set half a year later

Remus was humming and making himself breakfast as the last splashes of sunlight fizzled out from the sky. Onto his plate went a chunk of bread, a corner of thick yellow butter and a mound of amber marmalade, from the pot that merchant had been carrying a few weeks back. As he headed to the table with his plate, a knife and a mug of tea, a half-dressed Sirius trudged out of their room and made straight for the cold cellar to bring up his own breakfast.  
By the time he came back up Remus had already buttered his bread and was beginning to layer on the preserve.  
“Did you sleep well?” He asked Sirius as he set his bowl of cold bloody meat on the table and slumped into a chair, rubbing at his night-stained eyes.  
“Like the dead.” The werewolf had to smile at the old joke, but Sirius was frowning, “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about today,” he idly poked his food.  
Remus swallowed, “Eat. You’ll feel better.”  
Sirius nodded and picked up the meat, biting into it and sucking some of the blood out, before stealing Remus’ knife to cut it up. He caught a glimpse of Sirius’ fangs, white and needle sharp and dripping blood. “What kind of bad feeling?”  
“Kind of ominous but not life-threatening?”  
“How reassuring.”  
Sirius laughed and put one of the chunks of meat in his mouth, giving it a few chews and swallowing it almost whole, “Sorry I can’t be of more help – you know how these things are.”  
“I do. What are your plans for the day?”  
“I was thinking I might take a stroll in the woods... See if there are any unwary travellers camped out for the night.”  
“You still have all that leftover meat downstairs.”  
“But hunting fresh food is much more fun,” Sirius complained, lifting up the bowl to drink the rest of the blood out of it, “and it’s not like we have to pay for it.”  
“Yes, but if too many people disappear from around this area townsfolk will notice. We may be living a hundred miles from any village, but this forest is on maps. Any anyway, if people stopped coming here because they thought it was haunted you’d never have any fresh food.”  
“You’re right. As usual.”  
“It’s a fact of life.” Remus stood to clear the dishes away, walking over to the sink to wash them.  
“Self-satisfied dog.”  
“Lazy bloodsucker. Get over here and dry these!” He smiled at Sirius as the vampire scooped up a cloth and started drying the plates. “By all rights I should hardly be satisfied, living with a zombie who makes me change my sleep patterns and eats raw meat in front of me with his mouth open-“  
“And puts up with your lycanthropy, and runs with you on full moons, and lets you fuck him into the mattress when you need to let off some steam.”  
“...But I think I am satisfied,” finished Remus, and they grinned at each other. 

It was close to sunup when a knocking came at the door. The men both started in surprise, and then Remus rose and went to the door, while Sirius tensed in his seat, ready to fight or flee. The werewolf opened the little window in the wood and peered out at a hooded figure, just visible in the pre-dawn twilight.  
“Good morning, Remus.” He couldn’t see the man’s eyes.  
“Who is it?”  
“Regulus – may I come in before the sun comes up?” Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, then folded his lips and let Sirius’ brother in.  
“Thank you,” he took down his hood and made a little bow toward the werewolf, manners impeccable as always. Regulus was thinner than Sirius, and taller, with his short black hair bound back at the nape of his neck. Beneath the cloak he wore a soft cream shirt and black trousers tucked into high riding boots; fine clothes that echoed Sirius’ taste for the expensive (a penchant that he could not always satisfy). Other than that, he quite resembled his older brother, with his high cheekbones, arching eyebrows and eyes ringed with darkness.  
“So, _you’re_ my bad feeling. What are you doing here?” Sirius himself was standing in the doorway to the next room, arms folded.  
“Brother. A pleasure to see you as well,” Regulus directed a second, shorter bow in his direction. Sirius said nothing. “I’m travelling up to see the family and I need somewhere to stay for the day.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I generally don’t do well in sunlight.”  
“No, not that – I mean why the hell are you visiting the parents?”  
“Because I haven’t seen them in a while – and they’re our _family_ , Sirius.” They glared at each other.  
“Of course you can stay for the day,” Remus cut in, trying to break the tension, “I can make you up a pallet by the fire, if that would be ok?”  
“That would be lovely, thank you, Remus,” Regulus smiled thinly.  
“Can I take your cloak? Sirius, if you could get our guest some food...?”  
Sirius disappeared into the cellar and Remus led the young vampire to the table, where he searched for a topic of conversation, finally resorting to “What have you been doing these last years?”  
“Travelling.” A crease appeared between his elegant brows, “Searching for... something.”  
“You should settle down somewhere.” Sirius set a bowl of meat before his brother and rounded the table to sit with Remus.  
“Not everyone can find the find the... man of their dreams so easily.” He only let a hint of bitterness slip into his tone as he took up his knife and looked around for a fork. Not finding one he shrugged imperceptibly and began to cut up his food.  
“And that’s why you’re going back? Because you can’t find anywhere?” Remus sighed inwardly at the hostility in Sirius’ tone.  
“No, I’m just going back to visit, and then I’ll travel north some more,” he delicately picked up a square of meat and ate it with his eyes fixed on the table. Sirius was silently staring at his brother, his brows knit over his eyes. Finally he shook his head and stood up jerkily.  
“I’m going to bed.” He stalked from the table but paused halfway across the room and turned back mechanically, “Regulus... Sleep well.”  
Regulus looked up and the shock spread plain across his features wrenched something in Remus. Then the astonishment slowly melted into happiness and he smiled, “And you, Sirius.”  
Sirius left the room and Remus suggested he get Regulus’ bed together. The man simply nodded, still smiling down at his meal. 

A while later Remus slipped into bed beside Sirius, who immediately rolled over and burrowed into his arms. The werewolf rested his chin on his head and waited.  
“Why _is_ he going back?” Sirius asked after a moment, “He knows how they treated us – and you – and he knows they’re disappointed in him so why does he go back?”  
“Maybe he’s not as strong as you,” Remus murmured, Sirius’ head heavy on his shoulder, “And maybe he still has hope.”


End file.
